Code of Honor
by WritingIsLovely
Summary: Sir Blaine is appointed to conquer a large city just outside of King Burt's land, and take over the governorship from Karofsky, whose family has corrupted and ruined the city. Blaine has always been proud of his code of honor and chivalry, but he may be put to the test when he falls for Kurt, the abused servant of the Karofsky house. TW: sexual assault
1. Chapter 1

"Who is next?" Blaine called, sitting up straight. It was impossible to relax on the throne. King Burt had fashioned it so that whoever sat upon it would never be too comfortable, least of all the king himself. Normally, the King held court himself, listening to his subjects' needs and concerns, but today was a day of mourning for him, so he had appointed Blaine to attend to this particular duty.

A young girl came forward, trembling.

"Y-you Highn- I mean, my-my lord," she stammered, dropping to her knees, but Blaine held up a hand to stay her words.

"Please, there is no need to kneel. What is your name?"

"M-marley, Sir. Marley Rose."

"Marley, you needn't be frightened. I am holding court for the King today to answer to the concerns of his citizens," Blaine told her gently, "you are here of your own free will, and any request you make will be listened to and respected, though I cannot guarantee it shall be granted."

Marley's cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink. Blaine thought vaguely that she was the sort of lass that one of his friends, Sir Jacob, found most comely.

Marley went on to describe her problem. "My lord, I-I have travelled far, from the northlands, because my father has been terribly injured. There was an attack on his land, and he was struck down during battle."

"An attack? By whom? What banners did they fly?"

Marley cringed back, and Blaine remembered to keep a calm expression. The news that some enemy had attacked innocent people in King Burt's kingdom angered him very much. Truly, he spent much of his time on missions within the realm and even in ally lands keeping the peace, protecting the innocent and helpless, and spreading the crown's ideals of tolerance and chivalry. Most of the places he and his fellow knights went to were grateful and happy when they helped, but he knew he still had a reputation as a fearsome warrior and intimidating ruler in King Burt's stead. Among the kingdoms and lands that had made themselves enemies of the crown, Blaine knew he had an ominous reputation. It appeared those in the northlands were also wary of him. He thought to himself how very odd it was for the people to be more intimidated by a knight than the king himself, but King Burt was a constant reassuring presence in his kingdom and visited all corners of it regularly, and Blaine was a mysterious figure often off fighting in strange lands.

"Please do not be afraid," he told Marley, and gently asked her to describe the banners.

He recognized who it was immediately, and so did King Burt the next day when he told him of Marley's plight.

"Governor Karofsky," King Burt said with an angry frown. Blaine nodded.

"I've sent men to help tend to the injured and the dead, as well as help repair the damage done to the Rose lands," Blaine told him, "but Your Majesty, I fear that we can no longer sit idle by."

"I agree," King Burt said, "the Governor must be dealt with. I'll send a large force to take his city in a fortnight. But I believe the city has gone too long, corrupted for decades, and merely unseating its ruler will not save it or its citizens."

"Your Highness?"

King Burt regarded him closely. "Sir Blaine, you are young, but you are also my most trusted and best knight. Have you a sweetheart here in the city?"

"No, Highness." The truth was that though Blaine had many friends, he traveled too much to have time for a lover. His reputation hardly helped in the romance area either. The knights he was friends with all preferred women and he had grown up with them, so they were comfortable around them. But the kingdom's subjects generally avoided the intimidating group of knights. Blaine sometimes wondered if he had too little time for a sweetheart, or if he filled his lonely days with missions and fighting to distract from his loneliness.

"There is no one else I could trust this with. Prince Finn is still far too childish in spirit for such responsibility. I want you to lead the force to take the Governor's city, and I want you to stay there with the knights of your choosing, ruling over the city until it has been truly reformed. It may take months, even years."

Blaine looked at King Burt, conflicted. Prince Finn was King Burt's only son, and adopted at that, the son from Queen Carol's first marriage. He knew the King would never be able to let his son go, especially not after losing his first infant child.

"Take the night to think it over."

Blaine shook his head. "There is no need. I am at your command, Your Majesty, and honored that you have chosen me for this mission."

xxxXXXxxx

Kurt jolted awake to the sound of yells and clanging swords. Terrified, he pulled his ratty blanket around his shoulders and stumbled to his feet from the ground by the fire, which had gone out. He crept to the door and peered through a crack. Men were fighting outside fiercely. Kurt's eyes widened when a dark haired woman screamed out a stream of curses and slammed one of the Governor's men against the wall, knocking him out cold. Kurt let out a gasp and backed away, trembling. He had no love for the Governor, none at all. He truly hated him, actually, and he terrified Kurt. But Kurt did not know what to expect from the city's attackers. He had often been taught that the devil he knew was better than the devil he didn't.

He curled up in the corner behind the door, trying to ignore the clanging of metal and screams of pain and battle cries. He sat like that, wishing he had something to defend himself with, but alas there was nothing in the room, shivering and waiting, until the fighting died away. Some time later, the door banged open.

"Get up, stupid," Brody said, yanking Kurt to his feet.

"Wh-what's happening?"

"The Governor has fallen. We have a new ruler now, and everyone was to present themselves in the great hall five minutes ago. You're late."

Kurt noticed Brody, another lowly servant but not as lowly as Kurt - no one was as lowly as him - had found himself a clean shirt and trousers, and even an old pair of mismatched shoes. Kurt had no shoes of his own, his clothes were torn and dirty, and he himself was smudged with soot and dirt. He had been too scared to brave the halls last night and take a bath, and too exhausted besides that.

"Please," he said to Brody, grabbing his arm, "have you a spare tunic? Anything? I cannot go like this."

Brody snorted. "What's the use now? Whatever you're wearing will likely be whipped from your body anyway, for your tardiness. You'd never get the bloodstains out. The new Governor is Lord Blaine Anderson. Heard of him?"

Shaking, Kurt trailed behind Brody. He had heard of this man, a fearsome warrior and uncompromising ruler. Surely no one could be worse than Governor Karofsky, but still...Kurt had already failed to show Governor Anderson the proper respect. He would already be punished or perhaps even killed, and if he survived the day, he would certainly already be a marked man.

Their footsteps on the way were loud and ominous. The creak of the door to the great hall as Brody pushed it open rang in Kurt's head and everyone inside turned to look at him. He walked forward quietly, taking his place at the end of the line, next to Bree, another servant.

Governor Anderson sat in Karofsky's place, and he was looking right at Kurt. Kurt lowered his head, staring at the floor. He had learned a long time ago it was the safest way to get by.

The Governor didn't say anything about him, though. He spoke to the room, informing them that Karofsky had been executed (Kurt couldn't help but feel relieved, even in his new fear), and that he would be staying on with knights from King Burt's court to reform the city.

"I know many of you will not like the changes we are going to implement, but you will see in time they are for the best. I expect cooperation and respect. Any trouble will be dealt with accordingly."

Kurt closed his eyes, determined not to cry, not right in front of Bree and Brody and all the others who laughed at his misfortune to distract themselves from their own. He would surely be flogged, perhaps killed as an example to the city's citizens and the servants of the Governor's house.

Everyone was dismissed and Kurt immediately ran outside where barrels of water collected rainwater. He knew better than to try to escape. He had done so many times under Karofsky's rule, but the guards had always recognized him and never let him pass. But he scrubbed at his skin, trying to get clean.

"Hey, idiot," Bree said, walking up to him with her arms crossed, "The Governor has commanded your presence in his chambers. So either he's going to kill you, or he's one of those freaks who likes men and you're sort of a boy, so maybe he wants to fuck you. At least you'll be alive?"

Kurt shuddered. Homosexuality was outlawed in the city. Governor Karofsky's father had made it so during his rule. Which was why Karofsky himself had hidden who he was from the world, and chosen to take out his desires by tormenting Kurt. Now it appeared Kurt had escaped that fate only to be met with an even worse one.

"Please, I need something clean to wear."

"That is not my problem" Bree laughed. She tugged at a string on his shirt and made another tear. Kurt gasped and pulled away from her.

"Don't!"

"Run along now. You were already late once. Unless you want the new Governor to be angry with you and end your pitiful life for you."

He had at least washed his face, hands, and neck, but he was still dirty, his clothes still stained and torn. His bare feet made their way to the Governor's chambers, clammy against the hard stone of the floor. His hands shook so he twisted them into the material of his tunic.

The dark haired woman he'd seen before was standing guard. She pursed her lips, crooking her eyebrow as she looked him up and down. Kurt kept his eyes lowered.

The woman jerked her head towards the door. "Go on, then."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt walked into the Governor's chambers apprehensively. He'd never actually been inside them before, thank goodness, despite the times Governor Karofsky had sought him out in dark corners, pressing him against walls, his hands touching without permission, leaving Kurt terrified and in tears whenever he would wrench away, cursing Kurt for bewitching him.

Kurt shook his head a little to clear away those awful memories. They were just adding to his fear as he cautiously looked around the huge chambers. His eyes settled on Governor Anderson, who was seated at a desk, writing something. Though Kurt made no noise, the Governor seemed to sense his presence and looked up. Kurt dropped his gaze immediately.

"There you are. Come closer."

Kurt walked forward, shaking, hoping he wouldn't leave any marks on the rugs on the floor with his dirty feet. He stopped a few feet in front of the Governor's desk, trying not to shrink back when the man stood up and walked around the desk, leaning back against the front of it.

"Do you know why I have called you here?"

Kurt almost said he didn't, but instead words began tumbling out of his mouth of their own accord. "P-please, my lord, I know I have disrespected you, but I didn't mean it. Please grant me mercy."

"How have you disrespected me?"

Confused, Kurt made the mistake of glancing up, and he got his first good look at Governor Anderson, a startlingly handsome man, younger than Kurt expected. Kurt dropped his gaze again, trying not to be distracted by the man's beauty. The power he held over Kurt's life was far more important. "I...I was late when you summoned the servants of this house," he recited, still trembling. The Governor wanted Kurt to acknowledge his crimes before he was punished. "I'm dirty and unkempt, not fit to serve the Governor of this city." He bit on his lips to stop from crying. "Please, I-I beg you, please don't have me killed."

He was about to drop to his knees to add emphasis to his begging, when he heard the Governor take a step forward. He flinched instinctively and then felt strong hands settle on his arms.

xxxXXXxxx

Blaine's heart wrenched in his chest to see this young man so terrified. His face was white, like he might faint, and he was shaking like a leaf in the cold wind as he begged for his life. Blaine placed his hands on his arms, frowning at how cold he was.

"Please don't be afraid. I'll not harm you. And you haven't done anything wrong."

The boy looked up again in shock, and Blaine was caught in his bright blue gaze. Truly, he was a lovely young man, but it wouldn't do for Blaine to dwell on such things. The boy averted his eyes again, seemingly afraid to hold Blaine's gaze, perhaps because he believed it to be disrespectful. Blaine tucked two fingers under his chin and lifted his face up.

"What is your name?"

The young man opened his mouth, still obviously scared. "M-my name is Kurt, my lord."

"Kurt." Blaine tried to give him a comforting smile, but Kurt still looked ready to jump out of his own skin. "Come," he said, gesturing to a cushioned bench. "Sit. Rest. I know it has been a hard morning."

Kurt stared down at the bench with wide eyes. His face took on a pained expression, and his hands twisted in front of him.

"My l-lord..." he stammered. "I-I dare not. My dirty clothes would ruin the fine material."

Kurt cringed again when Blaine simply took his elbow gently. He felt so immediately protective of this brave, beautiful, terrified boy. "I take full responsibility for the state of the bench," Blaine said softly, "you shall not be punished for doing as I say."

Kurt nodded and quickly sat down gingerly on the edge of the bench, hunching over to make himself as small as possible. Blaine sighed, sad that Kurt's quick obedience meant he was now afraid he would be punished for not immediately sitting down.

Blaine sat next to him, careful to keep some distance between them for the boy's comfort.

"I called you here because I have been informed that you have lived in this house all your life as a servant. Is that true?"

Kurt nodded at his knees. "Yes, my lord. I-I was orphaned as a young baby and taken in here."

"You've never known your parents?"

"N-never, my lord."

"I'm very sorry to hear that." Blaine told him gently, but Kurt looked uneasy at what he said. He pressed on, hoping to vanquish some of his fears. "I called for you because I need someone who knows the Governor's house well, who can help me learn about the running of it. A sort of assistant, if you will."

He was happy to see some color flush into Kurt's cheeks, even if it wasn't the healthy glow of a well fed and rested man.

"M-my lord, I would not presume-"

"I am the one presuming," Blaine told him, "I would like you to take on this role, if you have no objections."

Some of the tension was easing out of Kurt's shoulders. He looked at Blaine through his eyelashes. Blaine found his breath catching. "Truly? My lord?"

"Truly," Blaine said, finding the tentative question endearing. He felt the strongest urge to wrap this fragile creature into his embrace, but that would never do. "Of course, no servant in this house can be allowed to pass each day like this," he said, nodding to Kurt's appearance. Kurt ducked his head in shame.

"I am sorry, my lord," he said, gripping the material of his trousers tight, "please forgive me; I..."

"There is nothing to apologize for," Blaine said, rising and walking over to the bed, "however, we must remedy the situation." He picked up the clothes on the edge of the bed and returned to Kurt, who had risen when Blaine did, and offering them to him.

Kurt looked at them and then him with wide, disbelieving eyes, but took the offered garments with shaking hands.

"I've asked the kitchens to heat as much warm water as they can," Blaine told him, "as more than one of you needs a good scrubbing and a hot bath." Kurt looked like he was about to burst into tears. Blaine touched his shoulder reassuringly. "Take some time to think about the position I've offered you, Kurt. Report back to me here in an hour's time with your answer. Until then, your only duties are to bathe, dress yourself in these new clothes, and..." He strode over to the desk, picking up a pair of boots, "to wear these. I'll not have my assistant-to-be shivering with cold and catching ill because he has no shoes."


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt was halfway to the kitchens when he realized he had left Governor Anderson's chambers without so much as a "thank you" or "by your leave." He padded softly the rest of the way, fingers flexing in the material of the clothes the Governor had given him. Not only were they clean, but they were of fine material, soft and giving, but hardy. There were no holes or tears. Kurt had never worn something so fine in his life.

He reached the kitchens and cautiously looked around the corner.

"What are you doing in here, you dirty thing!" Cassandra, the cook's main helper, yelled. She picked up a rotten apple and threw it at his head, he ducked just in time.

"I'm here-"

A hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, nails digging into his skin. It was the cook, Sue, who pulled him backwards.

"Well, well, ladyface, it seems you've stolen some fine garments," she sneered, yanking them out of his hands and shoving him to the ground.

"I didn't steal-!"

"Get out of here before I take a spoon to the bottom of your feet," she said, inspecting the clothing gleefully, pushing him back down when he tried to reach for them.

"Stealing clothes and looking to steal food, are you?" Cassandra hissed. She raised the large rolling pin in her hands over her head, ready to bring it down on Kurt's head.

A large hand stopped the pin's arc with a loud smack and Cassandra jumped in surprise. Kurt was hauled to his feet by a large woman who stared down both Cassandra and Sue. She wrenched the rolling pin away.

"Beating servant boys isn't the best way to go about preparing tonight's dinner," she said in a dry voice.

"This little miscreant has been stealing," Sue said, not backing down from this intimidating woman, but she was a scary woman herself. "He should be whipped and tossed in the dungeon."

The large woman turned to look at Kurt, squinting her eyes carefully.

"I-I haven't stolen anything," he whispered, flinching when Cassandra started forwards, only to be stayed by the large woman's arm, "I have orders from his lordship-"

"Lies. A little scurrying rat only knows how to lie and steal," Sue said, laughing.

"Quiet," the large woman commanded. She had to be part of Governor Anderson's guard. "Tell me, boy, what orders have you?"

"G-governor Anderson has ordered me to bathe with water from the kitchens," Kurt said, trembling. He realized how ridiculous it must sound. The lowest servant in the house expected to use the hot water reserved for nobility? It was unheard of. Cassandra snorted. "A-and to dress in the clothes he gave me to wear."

Sue and Cassandra didn't believe him, but the large woman in charge simply glanced over him, grabbed the clothes back from Sue, and handed them to him.

"Fetch yourself some water then, and you two will be giving him no trouble while he does. Understand that if you do, you are directly violating Sir Blaine's orders, and I won't tolerate such disrespect. Now get to making dinner!"

Kurt couldn't believe it, but he soon found himself alone in a small room, sitting in a small tub of warm water, a fire heating the exposed skin of his back. It felt heavenly, not just to wash away the grime and dirt and soot, but the water soothed his aching muscles. He knew this was a rare, one-time thing, so he concentrated on making sure every inch of him was clean, especially the scrapes and cuts he had, so they would stand a better chance to heal without scarring him or making him fall ill.

Cassandra barged in and Kurt shrank down into the water, trying to cover himself.

"You've got nothing I want to see," she sneered at him. "But I want to tell you that if you are content to be the Governor's little toy-"

"I'm not!" Kurt protested, and Cassandra smirked.

"Why else do you think he wants you all cleaned up and pampered? So if you think you're going to live some high life because you're keeping his bed warm, think again. We'll only put up with you until he's tired of you, which will be sooner rather than later. And don't come crying to the kitchens when he does because you'll get no sympathy from us. Everyone in this house knows what you are, and spreading your legs for the Governor isn't going to change that." She leaned in close, too close for comfort and said lowly in his ear, "After all, it made no difference when you did it for the last one."

Kurt's cheeks burned as Cassandra sauntered out of the room, pausing to dampen the fire until it went out. He trembled to think that Governor Anderson could want that from him. He had never lain with Governor Karofsky, but he cringed with revulsion at the leers the man had given him, the wandering of his hands in shadowy halls when he thought no one else was looking. How he blamed Kurt, said he had put a hex on him to make him feel these unnatural desires, and that he was to tell no one.

The truth is Kurt never would have told. No one would have believed him, and he didn't want anyone to guess the truth about him, the truth that he was attracted to men. It was against the law in the city, and he did not want to be put to death for something he couldn't control. Maybe it was a perversion, maybe he was unnatural, but in his heart he couldn't find anything wrong with his feelings. He had never acted on them, though, with no willing or desirable partners around. Certainly he had felt passing attraction to some good looking boys growing up, but everyone around him was cruel, or self-interested. And most everyone despised him or considered him no better than the rats in the city streets.

He knew it and he didn't need Cassandra to remind him. He pulled himself out of the tub as the water had grown cold, shivering as he quickly patted himself dry and put on the fine clothes the Governor had so generously provided. He could only hope that Cassandra was wrong, but the position Governor Anderson spoke of seemed too good to be true. Why would he offer it to Kurt, the lowliest and most ignorant of the servants? He dreaded finding out that it was some cruel joke, or worse, that it was as Cassandra had said, and the Governor intended to take him to bed.

His time was up and he needed to report back to the Governor's chambers. He slipped the boots on, marveling at the soft leather and how it cradled his feet perfectly. He fixed his hair in the reflection of the water in the tub before dumping it out outside and smoothed down his shirt, making sure it was tucked in carefully, before making his way through the halls of the house once more.


	4. Chapter 4

When Kurt left him, Blaine let out a huge breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He walked over to the bed and flopped down on it, glad he'd had it changed first thing.

Blaine had always followed a code of honor and chivalry, protecting the vulnerable and downtrodden, defending the innocent, vanquishing injustice and prejudice. It was the philosophy of King Burt's kingdom, and Blaine had tried always to uphold it, both for himself, and among the knights he led. But his reaction to Kurt went beyond it. He had plans to reform the Governor's house as an example the rest of the city could follow. Some servants would have to be dismissed, new ones brought on, and the ones staying would need far better care and respect than they'd received at the hands of the last Governor. But when he'd seen Kurt, petrified, dressed in rags and smudged with grime and soot, bare foot even in the harsh of winter, take his place with the other servants, a need to protect and care for the boy had sprung up in Blaine like never before. It was one thing to dress and feed servants well, it was quite another to appoint one as his assistant. But he could see intelligence in those eyes, past the fear and subordination. He had no proof, but he believed Kurt to be capable of great things if he was given the right opportunities.

Lady Santana interrupted his thoughts, striding into his chambers with an absent knock on the door.

"Blaine," she said, "Zizes has been to see me."

"Why didn't you send her in?" Blaine had appointed Santana to stand guard outside her door, knowing she would appreciate the easy task for the day. Her bloodlust during battle was stronger than anyone he knew, but afterward she needed time to rest.

"She's busy cracking down hard on the kitchen servants," Santana said, "but she wanted to inform you that your little urchin arrived for his bath."

"Ah, good," Blaine said, remembering Kurt's pretty face, trying not to picture him flushed red, surrounded by steam and water.

"But the cook and her first helper are nasty bitches who need to be smacked down," Santana said, with a shrug, "apparently they set to abusing your new pet as soon as they saw him, like it was regular practice for them."

"He is not a pet," Blaine told her sternly, though he knew it was simply her way of speaking. "But thank you for informing me. No wonder Kurt appeared as he did; the Governor's penchant for cruelty and abuse seems to have been passed on to some of his servants."

"It looks like we'll be here for quite some time," Santana said, "the city I saw as we invaded was all squalor and filth. Things won't change over night."

"No," Blaine said, thinking of the the house, the city, and of Kurt, who had clearly been abused and hurt quite badly, and not only by Karofsky, "they certainly won't."

A while later, while he was finishing his letter of report to King Burt, Kurt returned to him. Santana let him into the room, her sharp eyes raking over his new appearance and glancing at Blaine before she stepped outside once more.

Kurt looked much better. He was clean head to toe, the clothes, not damp and dirty and ripped like the rags he'd been wearing before, actually served their purpose, and the boots on his feet were surly providing him with much more warmth. Blaine would have to procure him a vest and coat as soon as he could.

He still looked scared, though. His face was still pale and he still approached Blaine cautiously, looking as though Blaine might strike him at any moment.

"My lord," he said, eyes lowered carefully.

"Kurt," Blaine said, smiling, "you are looking much improved." In truth, he was still far too skinny, as were many of the servants in the house, from what Blaine had seen. He needed fattening up, and hopefully a healthy glow would eventually return to his now pallid skin. Comely as he was, Kurt did not look like the healthy young man he should be. Blaine resisted the urge to call for a large meal for them to share.

"Thank you, Governor," Kurt said nervously, staying still.

"Have you given my offer some thought?" Kurt nodded. "If you would like more time to consider it, I'll not rush you. However, I do need to know by morning."

Kurt shook his head, taking a deep breath. "It is an honor to be offered such a position in this house. I-if you still desire me to have it, I will serve you however I can."

What an innocent he is, Blaine thought, flushing a little at his choice of words: if you still desire me. He shook his head slightly to clear it of such dishonorable thoughts. It wouldn't do to dwell on his attraction to this vulnerable person in his charge.

"Excellent," Blaine said, clapping his hands together and frowning when the sound made Kurt flinch. "Now, we do have some matters to attend to, then. First, where do you currently reside in the house? We shall have to move your things into the room down the hall from my chambers."

"I have no things, my lord," Kurt said softly, looking ashamed. Blaine wished there was some way to quickly set him at ease, but it was as Santana had said - change would not happen in a day.

"We shall have to find you some, then," Blaine said, "more clothes, for starters. Paper and quills. I'll have Sir Mike tutor you in basic writing and reading, as well as some arithmetic, but you needn't worry. Most of the time your work will not require those things."

"My lord, I know how to read and write," Kurt said, his chin tilting up for the first time. It warmed Blaine's heart to see him proud of himself in this regard at least. "At least, a little...forgive me, I will be grateful for whatever you wish me to learn."

"No, Kurt, that's splendid. Sir Mike will still tutor you in whatever you need, but I'm pleased to hear that you have some of the basics."

"Thank you," Kurt said, his cheeks tinging pink.

"Please sit down," Blaine invited him, gesturing to the bench once more, "with all that out of the way, we must discuss your troubles with the kitchen servants."

Kurt bowed his head, hunching his shoulders, nervous. "Please, Governor, forgive me. I did not mean to cause trouble in the kitchens."

"Kurt, no," the Governor said, and Kurt could hear the frown in his voice, "you were following my orders and did nothing wrong. No, we must discuss the troubles the kitchen servants have been causing, today and all the days before. I gather you know all the servants of the house? I would like you to brief me on them as best you can, so I can deal with them all accordingly."

Kurt's heart rate picked up. Surely such a high ranking noble was not asking for Kurt to give his opinion on such important matters. But he thought then of having the power to influence what would happen to Sue or Brody or any of the others and shuddered. It was the truth that deep down, late at night, he would often dream of somehow rising above them and having them grovel for forgiveness, but the truth was he was disturbed at the idea of being responsible for any suffering they might endure because of what he told the Governor. Would he whip them? Have them beaten? Starve them or lock them up? Kill them? Kurt was aghast that the very idea.

"P-please, my lord - " He started to blurt out before he could stop himself. He was in no position to try to tell the Governor what to do with the servants. "Forgive me, it is not my place. I have no right t-to ask - "

He started slightly when a gentle hand laid on his shoulder.

"Kurt," the Governor said is a calm, reassuring voice, "there is no harm in asking."

Kurt finally looked up, into his eyes. They were patient, and kind. This man was not at all what Kurt was expecting. He still had many fears and worries, especially about what was expected of him and what would happen when he failed to perform his duties to the Governor's satisfaction, but those eyes did make him feel a little better, as did the Governor's gentle voice and his generous, kind actions so far.

"I-I do not wish...for my words to be the cause of anyone's pain," he murmured. "If you were to decide to..." he bit his lip "beat or-or kill one of the servants and something I told you led you to it, I could not bear it."

He winced, realizing how it must sound. As careful as he had tried to be, he was criticizing the Governor. He made the Governor's future decisions sound monstrous and terrible by not wanting to be in any way responsible for them.

His hands trembled at Governor Anderson's silence and tears stung his eyes as he waited for him to strike him. "Please forgive me," he whispered.

He heard the Governor sigh and relaxed a little. Perhaps he would not hit him after all.

"I've no desire to be cruel to any of the servants in this house, nor to any of the citizens of this city," the Governor said, and Kurt looked up, blinking in cautious surprise, "and that includes you, Kurt. I know your life cannot have been an easy one, and that you have not been treated well. And I know that this sudden change must frighten and confuse you. Perhaps I have pushed for too much too soon." He stood up. "I want you to take the rest of today to adjust to this new situation you find yourself in, and to try to put your mind at ease about your new duties as my assistant. You can move into your new room, rest, and perhaps I'll send Sir Mike to visit you this afternoon. In the evening, you'll join me for dinner in my chambers, as we will be waiting a week to have a feast for the entire house."

Kurt felt he had failed in some way, and he nodded, ashamed. "Yes, my lord."

The Governor's hand came into his view, extended for him to take. "Do not feel badly for expressing your concerns," he said kindly, "and rest assured that I do not want to harm any of the servants, but I will discipline any that need it, and relieve them of their positions in this house if it is warranted. Including the two kitchen servants who mistreated you today."

Kurt stared at this strange, confusing man for a moment before dropping his eyes respectfully and nodding once more. He took the hand offered him, his breath catching in his throat at the feel of his scraped up hand sliding against the calloused, warm skin of the Governor's and stood. When they let go of each other, Kurt's hand sent tingles up his arm.

He remembered to thank the Governor as he left his chambers this time. He avoided the eyes of the dark-haired woman guarding his door, trying not to blush at the tiny smirk on her lips as he passed.

He sat gingerly on the edge of the large bed in his new room. Never had he imagined being in such a fine room except to clean it. Now he was expected to spend much time here, sitting, thinking, sleeping, just being. There were lovely draping curtains over the windows, the fire crackled merrily, filling the room with warmth, a beautiful vanity sat across the room, as well as a fine wardrobe, though Kurt knew it was empty, as he had nothing to put in it, and the bed beneath him was soft and inviting. He wondered suddenly what the other servants would think of his change in station. He suspected they would not be pleased.

He thought back to the Governor's words and remembered that he was expected to join him for dinner in his chambers. It seemed that Cassandra had been right, and the Governor wanted to have him in his bed. Was it a price Kurt was willing to pay for an elevated position, for comfort and security? He thought of Governor Karofsky's hands on him and shuddered. Governor Blaine did not appear to be so violent and rough, but Kurt still did not think he could do it happily. His hands fisted into the quilt on the bed. For many years he had dreamt of escaping his unhappy life and finding love and spending his life doing things he enjoyed rather than slaving away and starving and being groped and beaten. He would have found a man who he treasured and who loved him back fiercely, and they would join as one.

But it didn't seem that that would be Kurt's fate. And truly, what other choice did he have? If he could not please the Governor in bed, he would not be able to keep his new position, and would likely be cast out of the house, as the Governor had said. And what would he find on the streets of the city to keep him warm and fed? He saw no other option but to give Governor Anderson what he wanted.

He only hoped, inexperienced as he was, that he would actually be able to please him.

It was on this sorrowful note that Kurt curled up onto the bed, his eyes falling shut with exhaustion, and tried not to cry at the thought of something so precious to him becoming a duty to the master of the house.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine watched as a couple servants brought in plates of food, setting them on the table in his chambers. Lady Santana stood watching them as well, marking notes on a scroll. He knew she was doing it just to make the servants nervous, but he let her have her fun. She needed distractions and he was sure her notes would be helpful anyway.

"Will you join us for dinner?" He asked, and Santana grinned slyly at him.

"No, I think not. I wouldn't want to be in the way."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Blaine, please. It's obvious you're sweet on the servant boy. Lucky for you, he seems desperate to please, so you should be able to bed him quick enough."

Blaine's cheeks warmed and he glared at his fellow knight. "That's enough of that. I've appointed Kurt my assistant, and he needs to be shown courtesy and respect, not courting."

Santana shrugged one shoulder. "I don't see why you can't do all three."

But she left just as Kurt arrived, the timid young man knocking nervously on the door and waiting for permission to enter.

"Come sit," Blaine told him, gesturing to a chair, and Kurt sat down delicately.

As much as Blaine hated to admit it, Santana was at least partially right. He did think Kurt was very fetching. But there was no possibility of acting on his desire. For one, Blaine barely knew his new assistant. And more importantly, Kurt was far too fragile for such advances. No, Blaine was resolved to treat Kurt with care, and have him restored to full health. He wanted all the servants of the Governor's house to be well-fed and cared for, so they could fulfill their duties to their best ability. He wanted happy staff in the house, and he wanted happy citizens in the city. He knew it would take a long time, but every person counted. Including Kurt.

They supped on roast pheasant, potatoes, apples, and cheese. Kurt ate gingerly, and while all Blaine wanted to do was fatten him up, by the look of Kurt's thin frame, it was probably best he didn't overeat. It was just another thing that would simply take time. What he didn't like was how wary Kurt was. Every spoonful of food seemed to require that Kurt glance at him to make certain he was allowed to eat it, each sip of water looked like it could be his last. He was quiet, answering Blaine's questions about the staff and about his afternoon tutoring with Sir Mike quickly and simply, showing the necessary respect but also a desire to speak as little as needed.

By the end of the meal, Kurt looked exhausted. Blaine suspected he often did, and it would be another thing that needed changing, and only with plenty of rest.

"Well," he said, setting down his goblet after he drained the last of his wine, "I've satisfied my appetite. And now, I think, it is time for bed."

Kurt nodded. "Yes, Governor," he whispered, rising slowly.

Blaine did as well, and moved over to his desk to retrieve an itinerary he had crafted for the following day. He wanted Kurt to give him a tour of the entire house, show him from a servant's perspective how everything was done, how everything should be done, and what changes needed to be made.

He turned back round, Kurt's name on his tongue, but it died on his lips at the sight before him.

Kurt was standing by his bed, eyes on the floor, with the most miserable expression on his face as he shed his vest, leaving him only in the tunic and breeches Blaine had given him to wear that morning.

"What are you doing?"

Kurt's hands paused on the strings of his tunic. "Forgive me, my lord. Did-did you wish to..." Kurt's hands shook. "Do this part as well?"

Blaine's heart sank. Kurt couldn't possibly think...could he? But Blaine thought of Kurt's behavior, and about his obvious mistreatment at the hands of the other servants and the previous governor. It occurred to him that he would need to do a lot more than some clothes, a nice room and bed, and some food in order to truly gain Kurt's trust.

He crossed the room, staying Kurt's hands with his own. Blaine's couldn't help it. Perhaps it was too intimate a gesture, especially considering Kurt's assumptions, but Blaine was a physical person, and it was the best way he knew to offer comfort.

"Sit down," he said, regretting the instruction when Kurt went even paler and lowered himself onto the bed with a terrified expression.

"No, Kurt, you misunderstand," he said quickly, joining him on the bed, "I am not asking you to go to bed with me."

A tear slipped down Kurt's cheek and he tried to hide it. "My lord, I-I...I do not know what it is you want. If you would tell me, I will do wh-whatever it takes to please you."

Blaine stared at him, feeling sick. "I've already told you want I want. Your assistance in the running of this house."

Kurt shook his head. "It...it cannot be so simple. You've given me so much so shortly, I've done nothing to earn it. You've been so generous and kind, there must be a catch."

He looked up, his eyes widening. "Forgive me, Governor, I d-do not mean to insult you. I only meant that-"

"I know what you meant," Blaine said quietly, dismayed. He had known things were bad under the governor's rule, but he hadn't imagined things in this house and in this city were quite so dire.

Kurt was crying silently, his head ducked in that familiar posture - he was waiting for Blaine to hit him. Without thinking overmuch about it, Blaine simply pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to Kurt, who stared at in surprise.

"For your tears," Blaine told him gently, before rising and leaving Kurt to sit alone. He took it as a good sign when Kurt hesitantly brought the handkerchief up to dab under his eyes.

"I understand you have been mistreated in the past here," Blaine told him, "but I am not Karofsky. All I require from you are your services as my assistant, which do not include warming my bed. It is against my code of chivalry and morality to coerce servants working under me into such things. Do you understand?"

Kurt sniffed, looking confused, but answered, "Yes, my lord."

"I wish to reform this house, this city, and I will need a smart, capable assistant to help me, one who knows the problems that need solving, one who can give me a different perspective. That is why I've chosen you, Kurt, and I've given you nothing more than what you have a right to - food, clothing, and hopefully one day, a sense of safety." He had to make him see. One day, Kurt would understand that he could be valued as a human being, not treated like vermin, and there would be no catch, no string attached. Moreover, Blaine felt guilty now for his attraction to Kurt, harmless as it may have been. He could see the boy's ability to trust was badly damaged, and that he did not expect a kind word or respectful gesture, without some sort of condition attached.

"I expect you to do your best as my assistant, and I will show you that I am an honorable man, Kurt." He picked up Kurt's vest, holding it out for him. "Here, let me help you put this back on."

"Thank you, my lord," Kurt said, sounding dazed. Blaine counted it as an improvement. At least he didn't sound so terrified now. As Kurt turned, letting Blaine slip the vest onto him, Blaine wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the boy's thin body and hold him until some of his faith in the world was restored.

"We shall retire," Blaine said, "you to your room and I to mine. I want you well rested before a long day tomorrow." Without thinking, he caught Kurt's hand and held it gently. "Kurt, I do not want your fear. It saddens me to see you so afraid of me, but I do understand why you feel this way. I do wish for you to know that I will not strike you if I am angry, nor will I use my position to request things you would not grant in any other situation. On my honor as governor of this city, I swear it."

Kurt blushed then, bringing color back into his face, and Blaine allowed himself the pleasure of such a sight. It did wonders for the young man's delicate features to glow a rosy pink.

"Yes, Governor."

Blaine showed him to the door, holding it open for him. "And Kurt? Henceforth, I should like you to call me Sir Blaine."

Kurt offered him a small, awkward smile, but it was enough to lift Blaine's spirits. "As you wish, Sir Blaine."


End file.
